


The Angst-Ridden Bodyswap

by Joanne_Lupin



Series: WTNV Bodyswaps [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bodyswap, Heavy Angst, M/M, SO MUCH ANGST HOW DO I EVEN FEEL HAPPY, post-29
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 21:03:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joanne_Lupin/pseuds/Joanne_Lupin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I was going to make something cute and fluffy and smutty but then this happened.</p><p>Cecil was severely effected by his ride on the subway and refuses to talk about it. EXTREME ANGST ENSUES.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Angst-Ridden Bodyswap

**Author's Note:**

> I put the warning on because, though there's no actual violence, I feel like there should be _some_ archive warning for this.
> 
> I'll probably write all the cute things into another fic, so I'm making this part of a series.

“Cecil, I know how you feel about this, but it’s not your choice,” Carlos said. His patience was wearing thin. “I’m the one who gets to decide. I know you have an opinion, but it’s really none of your business.”

“Carlos,” Cecil whined, “please don’t do it!”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Why are you even so worked up about it? They won’t even take off a full inch. It’ll make it grow _faster,_ even.”

“Yeah, but what if they accidentally trim off too much? Or what if someone sabotages you!” Cecil took his boyfriend’s hands in his own, his eyes puppy-like and pleading. “Please, please, please don’t cut your hair!”

Carlos broke away, taking a few steps toward the window in his bedroom. He was determined to stand his ground, but Cecil’s puppy dog eyes were never easy to resist. “I’m just gonna get a trim, Cecil; it’s not like I’m, you know, taking a subway that could permanently damage me or kill me or anything like that.”

Cecil turned away, crossing his arms. “One, you know perfectly well that I had to do that; and two, that has nothing to do with this.”

“ _You_ know perfectly well that it _does,_ Cecil,” Carlos said angrily, throwing his arms in the air. “Why is it that you can risk your life and only tell me what you’re doing via radio broadcast, but when I just want to cut my hair, you have to be consulted?”

Cecil huffed. “Love is unreasonable sometimes, I guess…” He was still looking away from Carlos, so the scientist couldn’t see the flashbacks literally flashing in Cecil’s eyes. Cecil tried to brush that night off, but both of them knew that it affected Cecil more than he let on.

“Cecil…” Carlos groaned.

“Okay, okay.” Cecil wrapped his arms around Carlos and kissed his nose. “I guess you can get a trim. A small one, though. Like, microscopic.”

Carlos was about to press the subject of Cecil’s subway ride, because he still wasn’t okay with where they’d left it, but it was hard to do when Cecil was pressing his lips to his mouth, begging for entry.

That talk, he decided, could wait.

-o0o-

_Then…_

There was something off about Cecil’s voice when he’d gotten back from the subway. He sounded as though he was trying to imitate his own voice. It threw Carlos off, made him feel uncomfortable. 

He’d been glued to his radio, cursing the stupid fucking weather for being so goddamned long, for feeling like it stretched out over eternities, even though there was no guarantee he’d have any news by the end of it anyways. His muscles had tightened so much it was a wonder he could move. Tears had formed in his eyes. Because Cecil had gotten on that train and he didn’t know if he would ever get off.

The relief he’d felt upon hearing Cecil’s voice was crushed almost immediately by the dread with which he was filled at the broadcaster’s tone.

He wasn’t far at all from the radio station. Tearing himself away from the sound of Cecil’s voice, he sprinted the block or so to where Cecil was, to where he could see Cecil and hold him and check all over him to make sure he was okay.

He knew the both of them would get it from Station Management if he interrupted the broadcast, so Carlos held himself back, pacing in front of the door to the booth. As soon as Cecil emerged, Carlos wrapped him tightly in his arms. Cecil melted into his embrace, almost collapsing.

“Carlos,” Cecil breathed. He repeated it over and over again, as if it was the only word he knew. “Carlos, Carlos, Carlos…”

“I’m here, Cecil, don’t worry,” he soothed. (He felt he’d worried enough for the both of them.)

Together, they made their way to Carlos’ nearby apartment. Cecil leaned on Carlos heavily. With the exhaustion that showed on his face and the shaking that wracked his body, he could barely support his own weight.

Carlos led Cecil to his bed, laying him down and tucking him in tightly. “Do you need anything?” he asked.

“You,” Cecil replied. His hand gripped weakly at Carlos’ sleeve. “I need you. Don’t go anywhere- please, don’t leave.”

“I won’t,” Carlos promised. He laid down next to Cecil and started stroking his hair. “Tell me what happened, Cecil. I need to know.”

Cecil painstakingly wriggled closer to Carlos, wrapping his hands around the man’s waist and pressing his face into his chest. “I saw… I saw so much, Carlos. I saw everything. It took years- maybe even centuries. And there were so many terrible things, Carlos. I saw… people torturing and killing people. I saw war… and famine…” Tears dampened Carlos’ shirt. “And I was alone, Carlos. I was all alone. You weren’t there, Carlos, and I missed you so much it hurt, even after all those years.”

“Oh, god, Ceec.” Carlos’ voice broke when he spoke. He stroked Cecil’s hair. “Why’d you go?”

Cecil’s head jerked away, fixing Carlos with a bemused stare. “I had to go. Don’t you understand? It’s my duty.”

Anger immediately flared in Carlos. Sitting up, he forced his hands away from Cecil so he could ball them into fists. “Who told you it was your duty, Cecil? Tell me who it was so I can-”

“You still don’t get it. It’s… It’s just how it is, Carlos,” he said matter-of-factly.

Carlos’ voice shook, along with the rest of his body. He was trying to remain calm for Cecil’s sake, but he was getting angrier and more protective by the second. “‘Just how it is’? How am I supposed to accept that, Cecil? How am I supposed to accept that you risked your life and practically got _tortured_ because that’s ‘just how it is’?” 

Cecil sniffled and wrapped his arms around Carlos’ waist. The effort had him panting, sending shocks of worry through Carlos. “Please, please don’t be mad.”

Carlos couldn’t argue with Cecil- not while he was like this. “I… We can talk about this later, Ceec. You need to sleep.”

“No!” Cecil cried, clutching Carlos as tight as he could in his weakened state. “I can’t go to sleep, Carlos, I’ve missed you for so long, I can’t- not now-”

“I’ll be here when you get up, Ceec, I promise.” Carlos gently lifted Cecil away so he could lay the radio host down against the pillows. “But right now, I need you to sleep. Just do it for me, Cecil. I’m so worried about you.”

“Stay with me?” Cecil breathed. He stubbornly tried to keep his eyes open, but he was fighting a losing battle.

“Of course,” Carlos replied.

Cecil fell asleep in Carlos’ arms, but Carlos stayed awake all night, worry gnawing at him because of the way Cecil’s skin, usually so close in tone to his own, looked terribly, frighteningly pale.

-o0o-

They’d spoken some since that night, but not enough to bring the argument to a close. Cecil would end up cutting Carlos off with kisses and puppy dog eyes.

Physically, Cecil had improved. He was no longer pale or sick-looking. He was almost back to normal strength, though Carlos noted that he occasionally tired before he would have before.

Sometimes, though, Cecil would grimace an apology and sprint away; he wanted to hide the shudders of pain and the dry heaves from Carlos. Sometimes, when he thought he was alone and out of sight or earshot, Cecil would burst into tears, tiny, choked sobs worming their way into the open. 

Maybe Carlos thought that all that pain would deter Cecil from trying a stunt like that again. Maybe he thought that Cecil was suffering enough without having to have a conversation with which he was obviously uncomfortable. Maybe he just knew, watching his boyfriend suffer, that he would do everything in his power to stop anything like this from ever happening again. 

Either way, Carlos never fought Cecil off too hard when their discussion was broken off by Cecil’s kisses.

-o0o-

_Now…_

Carlos was awoken by pain. It was everywhere, and it was nothing like he’d ever felt before. It felt like emptiness, but a thousand times worse. It made him gasp and sob and gag. He felt hands on his hands- they felt familiar, but different. So did the voice he could hear faintly over the noises he was making and the ringing in his ears.

“Oh, god, Carlos! Carlos, don’t worry, I’m here. Or, uh, you’re here…”

Carlos just concentrated on the calming tone of the voice. Soon, the pain subsided. It didn’t disappear completely. It stuck around like the ache a cold puts in one’s bones. But he was well enough to realize that the face staring intently at him was his own.

“What’s going on?” he asked, alarmed, remembering the doppelgangers from the sandstorm. “What are you?”

“It’s me, Carlos. It’s Cecil.” The man before him smoothed Carlos’ hair back. “We must have switched bodies. It’s been known to happen. Last time I got switched with Earl. Huh, that was a long time ago…”

“So I- I’m in your body?” Carlos was fascinated by the voice that came out of him. It sounded like Cecil’s, but he retained his slight accent and his analytical rhythm of speaking.

“Yeah. And, um-” Cecil’s face was suddenly filled with intense remorse and guilt. “Since pain is a bodily thing, you’ll be feeling-”

“It’s okay,” Carlos replied quickly. “It’s not your fault.” The anger he stored constantly at whatever made Cecil feel as though he had to sacrifice his wellbeing for the city grew, knowing, now, how intense Cecil’s pain was. Then a realization hit him, and he smiled. “This is good, actually. You can, you know, get a break now.”

“Carlos-”

Carlos shook Cecil’s head, getting up gingerly. “It’s fine,” he dismissed. Cecil’s eyesight, he was realizing, was much worse than what his own, so he shuffled over and reached grabbed his glasses from where he’d put them on his dresser. When he put them on, the world only grew a different kind of blurry. He whipped them off quickly, not liking the way the headache they gave him mingled with Cecil’s pain. “Right, right. Wrong glasses, wrong body.”

Cecil handed him the right glasses, trading them for Carlos’. “It’s not fine,” he protested. “I’m used to it. You’re not. It’ll be-”

Carlos ran a hand through the tight, unruly curls on Cecil’s head. “Don’t tell me how you’re used to it, Cecil. Just the fact that you have to be used to it-” He broke off with a sad sigh.

Cecil fixed him with a look that was concerned and apologetic and loving and so distinctly _Cecil_ that it seemed wrong for it to be coming from his own face. “I’ll try to fix this as soon as possible, my dear, sweet, perfect Carlos,” Cecil soothed. He wrapped Carlos in an embrace. “This usually helps.”

Carlos leaned into the hug for a moment, but the pain flared suddenly inside him, and he had to break away. Cecil refused to leave his side, clutching his hand. Carlos wanted to protest, but the waves of pain were incapacitating him. When he finally was able to catch his breath, Carlos stood up with Cecil’s help. “How come _I_ can’t be with _you_ when this happens?” he asked irritably.

“You worry too much,” Cecil answered. “You don’t need to see-”

“I can still see, Cecil. And hear.”

“Oh…” Cecil’s eyes- or, Carlos’ eyes connected to Cecil’s spirit- became terribly sad. Guilty, even. And maybe even- for a small, barely-detectable flash- self-abhorring. Then he pressed their lips together.

Carlos wasn’t falling for it. Not this time. He gently pushed Cecil away. “No. We’re not doing this. Not this time.”

“But-”

“We’ve got to talk about this, Cecil. You can’t keep living like this, especially without letting me help you!” Carlos flinched at how his- or Cecil’s- voice broke.

Carlos thought for a moment that Cecil might burst into tears. He shook his head vigorously, a low, sad noise coming from him. Then he met Carlos’ eyes. “What am I supposed to say, Carlos? That I was wrong? Or stupid? Or that I shouldn’t have gone? Because even if I say those things, that doesn’t change the fact that I’m still making you worry about me because of my… _condition._ It only means that then you’re worried over nothing.”

“Oh,” Carlos said, and then, “ _oh._ ” He moved as fast as Cecil’s achy body could take him to wrap the other man in a tight hug. “Cecil, no matter what you did- or what you do- it’ll be my pleasure to worry about you.” He pressed a kiss onto the top of the other man’s head. “Now, please, tell me what I can do to make you better.”

A weight seemed to lift from Cecil as he let himself be the subject of his boyfriend’s worry. “There’s not a whole lot, I guess… Maybe we could have dates that involve a little less, uh, walking… Sunlight, too… And, uh-” he smiled a little “-maybe you could make me some tea every once and a while…”

“I can do that,” Carlos said. “I’ll be happy to do that.” He took Cecil’s hand and led him into the kitchen. “In fact, let’s do that right now.”

“But I don’t need-”

Carlos shushed him gently. “I think we both need it, Ceec.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Cecil murmured. “…Carlos?”

“Yeah?”

“I think… I think I understand- I mean, I… When you went into the city under the bowling alley, I was scared that you wouldn’t come out… And seeing the… the blood on your lab coat? I couldn’t stand that. So, uh, what I’m saying is that… I wouldn’t want _you_ to risk your life, even if it was for your work.”

Carlos squeezed his hand understandingly, then let go so he could put the water on to boil. “Do you like chamomile?”

“I’ll drink whatever you make for me, dear Carlos,” Cecil responded, wrapping his arms around Carlos’ waist.

Carlos chuckled. “I’ll hold you to that, I think. I hope I’ll be making drinks for you for a long time…”

Cecil hummed happily. “I’m totally fine with that.”


End file.
